


Let Your Hair Down, Diesel Doll

by greedy_dancer



Series: Killjoys [2]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Killjoys, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, Domestic, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-18
Updated: 2011-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-27 11:58:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greedy_dancer/pseuds/greedy_dancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys find water, and a place to rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Your Hair Down, Diesel Doll

**Author's Note:**

> Follow-up to [Haircare Tips for Zonerunners.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/265793) Thanks to Were_duck for audiencing and Fabu for beta-ing!

“You guys, you’ve got to come see this!” Ray’s voice is faint, coming from the back of the run-down motel they’ve just found. He sounds particularly squeaky, Frank thinks, which usually means he’s found a cache of ammo, or maybe a stash of old cans. Frank used to hope they’d eventually find some old enough to be B.K. - Before Kibble – but ammo is probably what they need the most at the moment.

Still. Frank would kill for a can of beans, and he used to hate beans.

“Go,” Mikey says, elbowing him in the side. “It’s clear, I’ll be okay here for a while”.

Frank sweeps his eyes over the horizon carefully, confirming Mikey’s analysis, before sliding down from their perch on the roof of the TransAm. They’re still running hard and fast, but it’s been days since they actually saw anything.

Frank hops to the ground, adding more dust to his boots. Gerard looks up from the ancient maps he’s got spread on the hood, gives Frank a quick smile, before circling something else with his nub of charcoal crayon. Frank starts walking towards the back of the building.

“Where are you, man?” he calls when he can’t see Ray.

Frank spots the kid, lying on her stomach in the sand, peering into a round hole. Ray can’t be far; he hasn’t let her out of his sights since…

Sure enough, Ray’s curls start to emerge out of the ground. There’s a round, concrete lid pushed aside in the sand. It looks like… “Holy shit. Is this what I think it is?” Frank asks, trying to keep himself in check. No wild hopes. “Fuck, is this-”

“Underground cistern,” Ray confirms, pulling himself all the way out and wiping his hand on his sweaty brow. The kid shuffles closer until she’s nestled into his side. “I couldn’t really see down there, but there’s definitely water, lots of it, and it looks uncontaminated. I’ll get the test kit and then-”

Ray gets to his feet and starts striding towards the car, the kid half-running, half-skipping after him until she catches up and grabs hold his jacket sleeve. “C’mon kiddo,” Frank hears him say, “I’ll show you something cool.” Ray’s voice is light, but he picks the kid up, carrying her, even though they’re only a few feet away from the car. Mikey, still up on the roof, watches carefully as Ray start ruffling through the trunk, then goes back to scanning the horizon, hand tight on his raygun.

“I want to see something cool.” Gerard’s voice is startling, coming so close behind Frank. “What did you find?”

Gerard looks gaunt, his eyes red, deep circles under them. Even his hair looks paler these days. There’s a streak of charcoal across his nose. Frank resists the impulse to reach for it.

“There’s water, Gee. Motherfucking clean water. Well, hopefully.”

He looks at Gerard, who’s staring at the cistern with disbelieving eyes. “What?” Gerard says, even though there’s no way he didn’t hear. “Like, actual water? That would work for the cooling system? Fuck, drinking water?”

“Fuck the car and fuck drinking,” Frank says, trying for light even though he could cry at the thought of drinkable water. “I am making all of you fuckers take a bath. And do laundry,” he rushes to add, before Gerard can protest. “Actually, I will do your laundry if you wash your hair. No, you know what, I will do your laundry and wash your hair and we’ll just have to work out repayment later.”

Gerard is watching him with a small smile. “Wash my hair, huh?” he says in that voice Frank secretly thinks of as his. “I’m sure we could figure out adequate repayment for that,” Gerard continues, and Frank swallows. The sun is close to setting but suddenly, Frank’s feeling hot all over.

*

The thing is, they haven’t had sex, Gerard and him, despite their promises in the kitchen that day.

There was the showdown with Korse, and then everything that wasn’t directly helping getting the kid back got put on hold, and then there was running, never being more than a few hours in the same place, always checking over their shoulders. Gerard and Mikey and Frank took turns sleeping in the backseat while one of them drove and one kept watch, Ray and the kid clinging and murmuring in the passenger seat, never for one second letting go of each other. No one thought about asking them to.

They dropped in on a couple of safe-houses, just long enough to refuel, trying to put as much distance between them and Scarecrow, advancing always deeper into the desert, where they hoped Dracs couldn’t survive for too long.

Every time Mikey took the wheel, Frank sent him grateful looks in the mirror, thanking him for the minutes he’d get to feel Gerard pressed against his side, for the way their hands would brush together furtively until one of them fell asleep and the other went back to watching the dusty road behind the car.

Gerard fell asleep on Frank’s shoulder, once, the damp warmth of his breath on Frank’s neck. Frank allowed himself to enjoy it for a few seconds, trying to savor these rare moments when he wasn’t thinking about death, giving it or escaping it, but after a few of Gerard’s exhalations Mikey spotted something in the rearview mirror, and Frank had to push Gerard away gently before grabbing the bazooka and climbing onto the seat to shoot out of the sunroof.

Frank remembers kissing Gerard, of course he does. The feel of Gerard’s hair under his fingers, the strength of Gerard’s hips bucking under him. He tries to push it all to the back of his mind, though, because who the fuck knows when they’ll have a moment of privacy again.

None of them let any of the others out of their sights these days.

*

“Do we even have time for this?” Mikey asks. They’re speaking in low voices, leaning against the car, as Ray holds the goblet filled with cistern water and directs the kid to dip the water tester into it.

“I talked to Ray. He agrees we’re probably good to stay here for the night,” Gerard answers slowly. He’s rubbing his nose in the way that means he’s trying to think, but Frank knows he’s actually fighting exhaustion. “Maybe tomorrow, even.”

“Nothing on the surveillance?” Frank checks. He can’t take down his guard if they’re going to have to run again in a couple of hours. He doesn’t think he has it in him.

“Nothing for the last six days,” Gerard confirms. “No reports from any of the Zones, either. Dr D. says Scarecrow was called back to the City.”

“Probably regrouping before the next raid,” Mikey mutters, grim, but then he pulls his bandanna off his mouth and says, “Okay then. I suppose we could all use the down-time.”

Frank closes his eyes, breathes in deep.

“Alright, are you ready for this?” Ray’s voice draws their attention back to him. He’s staring at the tester, the tell-tale blinking announcing the result is available. Frank sends up a prayer to whoever might still be listening.

The kid whoops. “Green, motherfuckers!” she shrieks, and Ray’s rebuke is lost as she takes off running and he starts after her, giggling the high-pitched laugh they haven’t heard in what feels like forever.

“Oh thank fuck,” Gerard breathes, and Frank can practically see him deflate. Gerard sags a little against the side of the car, and the urge to take him in his arms is getting overwhelming, and that’s it, Frank’s not waiting any longer.

“I’ll take first watch,” Mikey announces, loud and unsubtle, and any other week Frank would have at least flipped him off, but right now he’s so exhausted he feels only gratefulness. He makes a note to find some way to repay Mikey; maybe he’ll invent a reason to get them to Pete’s in the next couple of weeks, and then he and Gerard will take all the watches for a while.

Frank grabs both his and Gerard’s packs in one hand, and the first part of Gerard he can find with the other, and starts trudging towards the motel.

“Hey, Frank-“ Ray starts, but Mikey cuts with “I’m coming to get you in six hours!” and no one tries to stop Frank after that. Gerard follows him, dragging his feet heavily.

*

Frank leads them down the corridor he checked out earlier, stops in front of the middle door. Too close to the exits is too dangerous, his mind supplies automatically.

He opens the door and drops the bags on the floor. There’s a bed in the middle of the room and an overturned dresser obscuring most of the broken window. One bedside table. A closet with no door, three coat-hangers dangling inside. A chair lying on its side. And a doorway, leading to a bathroom.

He goes to the bed, stripping the covers in a cloud of sand, then walks back to Gerard, who’s still standing near the door like he’s never been in a hotel room before in his life and has no idea what to do.

Frank can relate. Part of him is still resisting the very idea of staying in one place too long, insisting that he not turn his back to the window and that he keep his gun in hand. He shrugs off his holster and lets it slide to his feet. Then he sighs, picks it up and places the gun on the dusty bedside table. That will have to do for now.

Gerard’s still looking up at him with lost eyes when Frank takes him by the hand and leads him to sit on the mattress. Gerard’s mouth is slightly open, moisture on his lower lip. He looks dazed, Frank thinks, like he can’t believe this is happening.

Gerard makes a noise when Frank goes back to the door, but Frank has to do this now or he never will; once he gets his hands on Gerard he’s not sure he’ll be able to let go.

He locks the door and wrenches the dusty chair under the knob, feeling Gerard’s eyes on him all the while.

“Frank, we can’t leave them-” Gerard croaks, but Frank doesn’t let him speak further.

“They’re going to be fine, you said it yourself, you said there’s been nothing for days.” Gerard looks like he’s going to protest. “You promised,” Frank says, and he sounds so stupid, so whiny, he feels his face heat, but he pushes on. They need this. He needs this. “You promised, Gee, and we’re all alive and we’ve got time, and running water, and there’s a bathtub through that door and we’re going to take a bath and then we’ll take a nap and when we wake up I want you to fuck me, okay? Okay, Gerard?”

Gerard’s breathing hard, not saying anything, but he nods, his hair falling into his face.

"Okay then," Frank says, and he closes the space between them.

*

There's sand at the bottom of the bathtub. It's gritty and rough, and the water trickling down on top of Frank is a reddish color and colder than should be comfortable. Frank couldn't care less, because he's got Gerard, warm, beautiful, filthy Gerard leaning back against his chest, his skin against Frank’s skin as the water rises slowly around them.

Gerard is resting his head on Frank's shoulder and his eyes are closed, and Frank is glad because he's pretty sure he couldn't take feeling like this and Gerard watching him at the same time. Also, he doesn't want to have to worry about what he looks like right now. He glances over Gerard's shoulder, down at Gerard’s body; sets his head back against the lip of the tub and makes a crazy face at the ceiling.

They’d undressed quickly, keeping their eyes to themselves; giggling, half-exhausted and half-embarrassed, like they couldn't believe it was actually happening. Climbed in, and Frank couldn't bear how softly Gerard was looking at him so he'd stood on tiptoes in the slippery tub and kissed him.

Frank had made them sit after Gerard had stumbled a couple of times, clearly too tired to stand up despite his protests to the contrary, and he's glad because now Gerard is dozing against him, letting Frank run his hands all over him.

Frank's taking his time, getting used to the weight of Gerard in his arms, the shape of his limbs, the dips and swells of ribs and the roughness of scars, scattered over pale flesh. He’s committing it all to memory. Who knows if—when—they’ll have another opportunity like this.

He presses his mouth to Gerard's neck carefully, licks a little where the water is creating clean tracks on dusty skin. Later, he wants to bite and suck right there, but for now he's got Gerard breathing deep and he's never seen him this still, this unguarded - Gerard's sleep is rarely peaceful. It makes something fierce rise in Frank's gut.

"Frank?" Gerard startles suddenly, eyes fluttering open as he starts scrabbling at the lip of the tub.

"Shh," Frank hushes Gerard, drawing him back in with an arm across his chest. "Lean your head back again so I can wash your hair," he says.

"What is it with you and my hair," Gerard mumbles, but he closes his eyes again and complies.

*

The best part – aside from the Gerard part, obviously – is the smell.

Frank rubs them both down with the crackled bit of soap he found in a motel a while back and carried in his duffle like something precious, hoping for – but never truly believing in - an occasion just like this. It doesn’t really smell good, but it also doesn’t smell like blood or fear, which is what they’ve all smelled like for a while. It doesn’t smell like the desert. It’s a different smell; a green smell, from when there were green things. A Before smell.

Frank runs the soap through Gerard’s tangled hair, working his fingers along the dark roots and into the snarls of red and the tangles of orange and the places where the sun faded the color yellow. Maybe he can deal with that later, if Gerard has dye left; right now it kind of looks like his hair is on fire, and it’s pretty cool.

The soap takes a long time to rinse out, and by the time Frank’s satisfied they’re both as clean as he can get them, Gerard is looking more awake and his teeth have started chattering. The sun set while they weren’t paying attention, and nights in the desert are freezing.

Frank maneuvers them out of the tub and back into the bedroom. Gerard looks like a drowned rat, shivering, his hair clinging to his cheeks.

Frank digs out the lantern from his pack, turns it on and sets it on the bedside table, next to his gun. He rips up a sheet he finds at the bottom of the closet, throwing one half to Gerard to use as a towel and rubbing himself down with the other.

There’s a scratchy blanket under the sheet and Frank dumps it on the mattress. He considers filling up the bathtub and dumping all their clothes in it to soak, but when he looks at Gerard to ask for his opinion, all thoughts of laundry leave his head.

Gerard is still standing in the middle of the room, covering himself with the soaked sheet that clings to his body, not really hiding anything, and he’s looking right at Frank. There’s an expression on his face not unlike terror, but he still meets Frank’s eyes squarely as he walks to the bed and climbs in it, kind of awkward, and holds up a corner of the blanket for Frank.

Frank rushes to meet him, clambering in until he’s pressed against Gerard again, skin cold and clammy.

They should use this time to sleep, Frank’s brain tells him, because Mikey is outside keeping watch and he’ll need to be relieved soon, and Ray and the kid are probably in one of the rooms not too far from theirs. Other parts of Frank, though, don’t want to hear anything about sleep, or Mikey or the Toros or ever stepping out from under this smelly blanket, out of this bed, this room, ever again.

He doesn’t even know what to do now he’s got Gerard clean and naked and in bed with him. He never fantasized about it; it seemed too cruel to entertain such thoughts. Even after that day in the diner kitchen, Frank knew all they could ever have was illicit make-outs, sneaking around, cheating death, taking what they could whenever they had a moment to themselves.

It’s so foreign, this; being clean and in a bed, in a room with a lock. Safe, no hurry. It’s been so long since he’s had anything like this, so long since the day the world stopped and he suddenly knew he would never get anything he wanted ever again.

He was wrong, though, because now Gerard is pushing him down and climbing on top, trying to keep his hair from dripping in Frank’s face and failing rather spectacularly, and that's all Frank wants in that moment, and he has it. His chest fills with unspeakable awe, and he laughs in the rain of droplets that are wetting his face all over again, letting them trickle into his mouth and chasing them with his tongue, surging against Gerard until their lips meet, cool and wet, and their tongues touch and their noses rub against each other.

Frank runs his hands all over Gerard’s naked back, up to his neck and down to his ass. He thought he would be too tired to get hard, but he realizes with no little surprise that he isn’t. His body must understand how rare and precious this occasion is, because his dick is filling with blood despite the cold and the exhaustion, and soon it’s nudging Gerard’s thigh.

Gerard whines, trying to get even closer to Frank and he’s getting hard, too, shockingly warm against Frank’s inner thighs.

Gerard leans down, presses his forehead against Frank’s, his hair blanketing their faces. “Frankie?” he says, splaying a hand on the side of Frank’s face, and Frank leans into it, groaning. He bucks, managing to dislodge Gerard for long enough that he can get back on top, the blanket twisting against them, getting caught in their feet.

“Just like this,” he says as he wedges a leg between Gerard’s, lowering his hips.

He moves against Gerard, and it's kind of awkward at first, their damp skin sticking instead of sliding. Gerard’s teeth have stopped chattering but he’s getting goose bumps, so Frank breathes hot on Gerard's neck and then licks a wet line up to Gerard’s ear, blowing on it and watching Gerard shiver.

Their dicks are bumping against each other and it's not enough, nowhere near enough. Frank wants everything, but he has no idea where to start. He needs to make the most of this but his mind is blank, flashing back to the laser gun pointed at his face on the day the kid got taken, how close they all came to dying, how many times they went looking for death since then. Suddenly he wants to bite at Gerard's skin and draw blood.

He fists his hands on the mattress and shuffles down Gerard's body instead, burning his knees on the rough material.

“Fuck, Frank, wait,” Gerard is saying, but Frank's waited long enough. He uses his teeth on Gerard's hip, dodging Gerard's knee when he brings it up suddenly. He settles in between Gerard's spread legs and pulls the blanket up over his head, shutting himself in with Gerard's dick.

The air is close and warm and humid, and the smell of Gerard is overwhelming, the clean smell of arousal filling Frank's nose and mouth, making it water. He rubs his face along Gerard’s legs for a while, trying to gather the pieces of his scattered brain, but it’s a lost cause.

He gropes in the dark until finally his mouth is on Gerard and Gerard is in his mouth and all the thoughts in Frank’s head dim and fade into the background. His drool slides down the shaft and he licks it up again, and he's glad he's hidden because he probably looks ridiculous, and the noises his mouth is making are embarrassing.

Gerard doesn't seem to mind, though, going by how noisy he’s being himself and the way his hands are clenched in Frank's hair. Frank's folded in on himself, trying to keep all of his body inside the blanket cocoon. It's not the most comfortable position, and he can't touch himself like this, although maybe that’s for the best, because now they’re doing this he wants to draw it out as long as he can. Right now arousal and anticipation are keeping him awake but he’s pretty sure it’ll be lights out as soon as he comes.

He concentrates on keeping his teeth covered and applying as much suction as he can, and Gerard starts moaning and moaning and bucking all over the place, so much that Frank has a hard time keeping him in his mouth. He likes it, though, having Gerard so unguarded; making him wild with something other than bloodlust.

He give Gerard's cock a final lick and emerges from his blanket fort, climbing up Gerard's body again and taking him in hand, jacking him wet and slow and easy, and says “I changed my mind. I think I'd like you to fuck me now”.

Gerard scrunches his eyes shut, makes a high keening noise, bucks, and comes over Frank's fingers.

Franks blinks down at Gerard.

Gerard's pink tongue comes out and licks his lips. “Sorry,” he says, eyes still closed. “It's, uh, been a while?”

“Shut up,” Frank replies, and he's a little disappointed because that's one of Gerard's erections wasted, and it's not like he sees an unlimited supply of them in their future. He keeps stroking up and down Gerard's softening dick, spreading his come around idly, wondering if he can maybe get Gerard up again quickly enough that he could fuck Frank anyway.

By the look of Gerard, that's not going to happen, though. His breathing is evening out already, eyes falling shut gradually and then fluttering back open, only to droop once more.

“Frankie,” Gerard whispers, and beckons Frank to him. He grab for Frank's crotch and misses, so Frank moves higher up the mattress, straddling Gerard's torso and kneeling up on his chest. He bats Gerard's hands away and brings his own, still wet with Gerard's come, to his hard dick. Gerard hums, smacks his lips, sighs a little. Frank starts stroking himself over him, hard and fast and no-nonsense, racing to get off before Gerard actually falls asleep on him. Under him.

“C’mon, Frank,” Gerard mumbles, and pats Frank's knee as Frank feels the heat start to coil in his balls, his thighs tensing up, ass clenching and hips flexing forward, fucking his own hand. He really wanted to feel Gerard inside him, or at least his hands or his mouth, and he hopes pretty fucking fervently it’s going to happen at some point today still, but first he's going to come over Gerard, come right on him, on his chest and his neck and maybe even – Jesus – on his face or in his hair.

The thought hits him as a little weird because Gerard's mostly asleep, the only sign he's still with Frank the weak squeezes he keeps giving Frank's knee and the way his tongue appears periodically to moisten his lips. Frank's body doesn't care about that, though, hurtling unerringly towards release.

Frank strokes just under the head, faster, faster, until the shiver runs up his spine and he gasps, his entire body contracting, suspended in that place between pleasure and pain for one long second before he goes over and starts coming, warmth expanding through his belly and legs and chest and face. He lets himself moan long and hard, relishing the freedom to make noise and thrash around.

When he opens his eyes again, Gerard is looking up at him, full of heat and wonder. “Frankie,” Gerard whispers again, something raw in his voice making Frank duck his head and swallow despite his dry mouth.

Frank's come is all over Gerard's chest, a few drops on his neck, starting to slide down towards the bed. Frank means to clean Gerard up, he really does, but it's like someone hit him over the head all of a sudden, and it's all he can do to climb off Gerard and collapse at his side, one leg thrown over Gerard’s. Gerard turns and slides closer to him, squishing their chests together, getting come all over Frank. “S'okay, I know where to find water,” he slurs, his lips brushing Frank’s skin.

Frank opens his mouth to answer but he's asleep before he figures out what to say.

*

Frank sleeps for way longer than he means to. He wakes up feeling bleary and confused instead of tired but alert, which he how he usually emerges from his allotted two hours in the backseat. He rubs at his sticky eyelids.

“Gee?” he rasps, but he knows already Gerard is gone. Frank can’t hear him breathing.

The lantern is gone, too, and the room is pitch dark and cold as Frank feels his way around the gritty floor, looking for his clothes – he’s not too keen on putting them on again now he’s relatively clean, but he doesn’t want to wander around naked, either. He slides his feet into Gerard’s too-big boots and goes looking for him, bumping into furniture as he fumbles his way out the door, then following the faint glow to the end of the corridor.

He finds Gerard and Ray bent over something, whispering intently.

“We’re far enough out that it would make sense,” Ray is saying, and then he notices Frank and stands up straight again. “Hey, Frank,” he says with a tired smile. His eyes sweep all over Frank quickly, down to his feet and back up in a flash, before darting down again to Gerard’s feet, which, Frank notices, are bare.

“Hey, Frank,” Gerard repeats softly. His eyes stay on Frank’s, and Frank’s drawn to him, shuffling until he’s standing at his side, not actually touching but close enough that he can feel the heat from Gerard’s arm on his, smell the heady scent coming off of him.

It’s a familiar smell, but it doesn’t belong in Frank’s catalog of Gerard smells. He gets distracted in trying to figure it out when he sees what Ray and Gerard were talking about.

“What’s this?” Frank asks, gesturing at the assortment of what looks like engine parts on the floor. They remind Frank of something he can’t quite place, and then Gerard puts his arm around Frank’s waist like this is something they do all the time, and Frank’s brain goes to mush.

“It’s, um,” Ray says, his eyes glued to where Gerard’s hand is trying to work its way under Frank’s shirt, “a generator? I think?” He sounds kind of squeaky. Frank hovers between amused and worried. There’s no way Ray is actually this clueless, he thinks, but then again, Ray’s had other things to worry about recently.

“Ray thinks we could fix it, maybe get the power working,” Gerard says, his fingers cold on the skin of Frank’s hip. “Water and power. Maybe we could stay here for a while, get ourselves together again.”

“Is it safe?” Frank hates himself for asking, because there’s nothing he wants less right now than getting back on the road. He’s not done with Gerard yet; he didn’t even get to wake up with him. A part of him is yelling at them for stopping even this long, though; for entertaining the thought that they could actually be safe anywhere, ever. He still has to make sure. “You really think it’s the right thing to do?”

“Ray says she needs rest,” Gerard answers, and Frank knows the decision has been made. “And we need to take care of that leaky carburetor, too. Mikey thinks we might be far enough off the map to be good for at least a week.”

A week. Seven days of drinking all the water they want and taking baths and sleeping on a mattress. And Gerard. The things Frank could do to Gerard in a week…First things first, though.

“Whose watch is it?” Frank asks. “Actually, where did everyone go?”

“Ray put the kid up in one of the rooms.” Frank gives Gerard an alarmed look. “Far enough from ours, calm down,” he says. Ours. Frank takes a step closer to Gerard. “He said he’d take the next watch, set up some perimeter sensors.”

“Okay,” Frank breathes into Gerard’s neck. The smell there is even stronger. It’s his own smell, he realizes, head suddenly swimming. Gerard’s been chatting about generators and strategies with Ray and his brother, smelling of Frank’s come. Jesus fucking Christ.

“So there’s nothing keeping us from going back to bed right now, is what you’re saying?” Frank says, as evenly as he can, which is not very. He wants to lick at Gerard’s neck, figure out if the taste there is the same as the smell. He hooks his fingers into Gerard’s waistband, starts walking them backwards, back into the corridor, towards their room. Their room, at least for a little while.

“No reason at all,” Gerard confirms, hurrying them both along. Their legs tangle and they almost trip, righting themselves at the last second, clutching at each other and laughing. Something light and bright Frank doesn’t want to name is making its way up inside his chest.

“That’s good,” he says, “because I think I’m ready to collect that repayment now.”

The click of the door already sounds like home.

*

The end

*


End file.
